No Time for Heroics
by SonOfSmallville
Summary: Billionaire bachelor, Oliver Queen, is thrown into uncharted waters when it's up to him to care for a teenage Bart Allen. With a thirst for adventure and an appetite for trouble, his young charge turns his world upside down.
1. Savior

**Disclaimer: If I owned Smallville, I'd be rich. And cool. **

**Chapter One: Savior**

The evening sky was slowly making it's way from dull blue to a deep onyx, and an unusual sense of calm was settling itself over the city. Even on a weekday, Metropolis was usually buzzing with activity, more specifically crime. Oliver Queen, disguised as his heroic alter-ego, the Green Arrow, lay across the rooftop of the LutherCorp building. A radio on his hip tuned into a police frequency, where he could normally overhear news of a crime in progress. On one of those normal nights he would rush into action and swooped in just in time to save a civilian.

The airwaves were empty tonight. The only things being reported were the ones that already had dozens of cops at the scene. He wasn't Clark Kent, which didn't much bother him (the farm lifestyle was more than unappealing for a boy brought up in castles and penthouses), but he often wished he had the other man's abilities. He couldn't run so fast no one would see him, and he knew if he dove into action in front of officers they would not be hesitant to discover the vigilante's identity.

After a frustrating half-hour with no calls for help, Oliver decided to make his way to Suicide Slums. An unforgiving area, rife with poverty and gang violence, he knew this was a place where he could typically find someone to save. He had a bit of an itch for the momentary reverence of a victim saved, though he preferred not cary that into his business life for the time being.

The ghetto-like area was miles away, and although he was a fan of swinging from building to building, he was aware it wasn't exactly the speediest way to travel. He hopped over to a nearby office-tower, then strolled towards a vent, this was a usual occurrence.

Never wanting to be caught off-guard when he needed to quickly change into his more... casual attire, he had dozens of outfits stored in locations all around Metropolis. It was too much of a burden to carry a shirt and tie on his person while he was on the move. He stowed the green leather outfit in a messenger bag that his other outfit had been pulled from, and was quickly back to his usual self.

Whistling to a taxi, the young billionaire looked like anyone else on a typical trip across town. Although, the driver was a little surprised, having recognized the chief on Queen Industries, that the young man was requesting a ride to a part of town feared by even the average Joe.

He was quick to lie about a meeting at a charity in the area, and despite his confusion (as to why a meeting would take place so late at night) the cabbie drove silently for the remainder of the trip. When the bill came out to around 15$ as the ride finished up, he was wordlessly handed a fifty dollar bill as his passenger left the car.

* * *

The Green Arrow prowled the streets of the slums, his suit shining a little under the dim lamps that lined the cracked and old roads. Having already stopped two muggings in progress, he was feeling a little better about himself. Oliver was still waiting for a real life saving moment though, he wanted so badly to be not only a hero... but a superhero. At least to someone.

These days, a small explosion of media coverage left a lot of people feeling as though he was some want-to be cop. Many even saw him as a bad guy for stealing things... if only they knew WHY. Then they would understand.

As he was caught deep in though, he turned a corner into an even darker street. The area was lined with closed stores, pawn shops and smashed, broken storefronts. His feet crunched against some pebbles coming loose from the asphalt, he paused for a moment to embrace the silence that came with it.

Well, it should have been silence. He could swear he heard something else though. A voice somewhere further down the lane. He ran quickly to investigate, slowing when he got closer. He didn't want whoever it was to hear him approaching.

"Please... please... don't do this... ARGHH..." There was a voice whimpering, then a shrill yell. This was followed by a few seconds of sobbing. Oliver stood at the corner of an alley, listening with a terrified confusion to whatever was happening behind him. This wasn't the usual cries for help he responded to. Not wanting to rush into something not knowing what he was facing, he fished a mirror from his pocket. Directing it around the corner, he could see the outline of a large man holding a smaller one up against a brick wall.

The Green Arrow leaped around the corner, wanting to help the man being victimized by the other. He got a clearer view of the situation when he did so. A young man was indeed being help against a wall... but there was more. His mouth was covered by his attacker's hand... his pants were hovering around his knees... he was crying.

For a moment... Oliver just stood and watched in pure horror as he realized what was unfolding before him. Only a second later though, his more logical instincts were starting to take over. He grabbed an arrow and expertly had it through the man's shoulder in a second.

The man cried out in pain and released the young boy in his surprise. He hardly had time to tuck his member back into his pants before the leather-clad man was beating him into submission. Oliver knocked his head hard against a wall, his pure rage taking over his more humane instincts.

Sure that the man was out cold, he turned his attention to a started teenager on the ground. "Are you alright?" was all he could think of as he rushed to help the kid to his feet.

"Uh... I... um..." was all the young man could muster as he gawked at the man who had saved him. He pulled up his pants in embarrassment as he realized he was standing nude in front of someone he saw on the front page of the Daily Planet.

Oliver reached out a gloved hand to the boy. "Hold on to me alright? That guy's gonna wake up soon and I don't want him anywhere near you." his voice sounded deep and strange to the younger man, unaware he doing so intentionally.

"Hold on?" he asked in a small and confused tone, eyeing his savior quizzically.

"Arms around my shoulder. Hang on tight." Green Arrow commanded, he would save the explanations for later. The kid hesitantly took his backpack from the alley floor and did as he was told.

Using a grappling gun, the two were soon flying towards a nearby rooftop. Once they had done so a few times, Oliver paused and released the boy onto the roof of an apartment building a safe distance away.

He wasn't really sure what to do in this situation. Take the kid to the hospital? Call his parents? "Alright kid, we should probably call the police now." he took out a cellphone and began to dial.

It was slapped from his hand. "You can't call the cops!" the younger boy shouted frantically.

"Why not?"

"Listen man, they're gonna find out I don't have parents. They're gonna send me to fucking foster care ..._again_ and everything's gonna go to shit. Just, just let me go man, I'll be fine. Thanks for saving me and all..." he turned away, looking for a way to get off the roof.

"Wait! You're homeless?! Do you freaking live out here?" Oliver couldn't believe this kid was on his own, he looked no older than sixteen.

"Yeah...I mean, I couch surf when I can. But for the past few weeks.." he spread his arms wide and faced the city "this is my palace."

Oliver gripped the shorter boy's shoulder " Do you know you just got raped in your palace?!" he shouted; confusion, anger and sadness coming out all at once.

"DON'T TOUCH ME MAN!" the kid shouted, squirming out of his grip. "Of course I know, he got a little quieter, but there is _nowhere _else to go."

Oliver stood silently for a moment, he didn't know what to do, what to say. He wasn't good at this kind of thing. He used to think saving people was a get in-get out situation. But there was no way he could just leave this kid out here.

"Listen.. kid, what's your name anyways?" he inquired in a slow and gentler voice.

"Bart." the boy turned to him, his eyes were wet from tears. Neither could have told you if they were left over from earlier, or if they were forming fresh right there on the rooftop as it all sank in. His nose was bleeding, his eye would be bruised and blacked in a few hours. A cut above his eyebrow looked deep and painful.

"Bart... listen. You've got to trust me, alright?"

"Um.. I guess I do. But how do you wager you'll fix this?" Bart inquired with a puzzled look.

Oliver wrapped his arms around the boy reassuringly, Bart held on tight and started to cry a little harder into the green leather. He gasped in shock for a brief moment before entirely loosening his grip.

Oliver felt a little guilty as he pulled a sedative-laced arrow from his back. He lay the boy down on the rooftop and pulled out his phone once more.

"Listen Clark... yes, I know what time it is, seriously though- I need a favor... yeah, well if I knew someone else who could run at the speed of light then maybe I wouldn't need your help... see you in a second. Thanks."

He put the phone away and laid down next to his sleeping companion, looking up at the stars and hoping he could help this kid... and maybe even be more of a hero than he ever thought possible.


	2. Sanctuary

**Chapter Two: Sanctuary**

It had been weeks, though it seemed like years, since Bart had slept in a bed. Never in one quite as cozy as this. He rolled over in the sheets, trying to force himself back into a deep sleep, wrestling with the fact that he'd had his share of sleep for this night. Eyes opening slowly, he saw an unfamiliar alarm clock, it's digitized face reminding him it was past noon.

Bart sat up slowly, now confused about where exactly he was. This looked a little too homey to be a hotel, and besides, he could never afford a hotel this nice. The previous night's events rushed back into his brain- where they came to an abrupt halt when he hugged the Green Arrow. Weird... he hugged the Green Arrow.

The Green Arrow saw him naked. The Green Arrow saw him broken and defeated. He'd abandoned him here in this... place. No wonder he wanted to get rid of the street urchin. A guy like that couldn't be bothered with some homeless kid going nowhere in life.

Bart lay back down on the bed, trying to make sense of his situation. There was a door cracked open across the room... there was a smell of food in the air... there was someone else around here. Feeling uneasy, and hoping whoever it was at least knew the Green Arrow had deposited him in their home, Bart crept out of bed.

He was wearing nothing but his boxers, but he couldn't find his clothes anywhere around him. He grabbed a blanket from the bed and wandered towards the door. From a window nearby, he could see all of Metropolis.

The door lead to a big open space, with couches and a television. The whole set-up looked very expensive, Bart found himself praying that they didn't call the cops when they found this kid in their home. He peeked into a magnificent and modern kitchen, where a blond man was busy at the stove. He coughed politely so the man would turn around.

"Good, you're finally up." he gave a bright smile to the teenager. Oh my god. It was Oliver Queen.

"You.. you're... you. Oh-my-god-I-am-so-sorry-I'll-leave-right-now." Bart stuttered in shock. Why the hell was he in a freaking billionaire's penthouse?! What on earth happened after he blacked out yesterday?

"Bart! Don't leave, I'm making lunch!" Oliver called, chasing after the youngster who was frantically looking for his clothes.

"How do you know my name? What am I doing here?" Bart held his blanket tightly to his body, keenly aware that he was more than a little naked in front of a guy who seemed to own half the town. He stumbled backwards into a wall, tripping over the blanket.

"The Green Arrow. He, uh, he dropped you off here. We're good friends, I told him you could hang out here for a while." Oliver lied. He was originally planning on revealing his secret identity to Bart, but soon realized he didn't know much about the kid. He wanted to trust him, but then again he would be ruined if the kid went out and blabbed to everyone.

"Did he tell you... what happened last night?" Bart murmured, looking at his feet. He didn't want this mogul to look at him with the same pity he saw in the Arrow's expression.

" He said you were mugged." Oliver offered awkwardly. Having seen the boy's pained expression when he asked the question, he presumed he was ashamed of what happened. He wanted to be someone who could tell the teen that it wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to be ashamed of. And he believed that to be true. Then again though, he had no idea what events had led up to last night's "mugging", and although he was sure Bart hadn't deserved what he got, he didn't really know much at all.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was mugged." Bart shuffled awkwardly, still leaning against the wall. "Do you uh, do you know where my clothes are?"

"In the wash... do want to borrow some of mine or something?" This exchange was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"I don't think we're quite the same size, ..." Bart looked the man up and down, he was almost a foot taller and much more muscular. He felt even more like a child.

" Well that blanket isn't exactly a small either... " Oliver snickered at his own remark, already turning to go find a shirt for this kid. "Wait here.." he called as he disappeared into his bedroom.

Bart stumbled over to the couch and took a seat awkwardly, waiting for his host to return.

Oliver came back with a simple white t-shirt. It had shrunk in the wash last week and had been stashed in the back of a drawer ever since. It would still be a little big, but much closer to the teenager's size than anything else he owned. He tossed it to Bart, who readily put it on.

Sure, he was still in his boxers... , Bart thought, but at least those were sort of like shorts. Though he was anxiously awaiting the moment his pants were dry.

Oliver couldn't help but stare as Bart removed the blanket and sat before him for a brief moment wearing no shirt at all. His pale skin was marked by several large bruises, some a deep purple and others a faded yellowing colour. Obviously, yesterday hadn't been the first rough day for his young friend.

A thick scar ran along the boy's bony and thin torso, long and harsh... like he'd been broken in half and sewn sloppily back together. "Mr. Queen... could you please stop staring?" Bart's eyes were downcast, filled with anxiety.

Oliver jumped, embarrassed having been caught. The two men were left staring at their feet, both feeling a little shameful. "I'll uh... I'll be in the kitchen. Lunch. When you want it..." Oliver tried to seem bright and cheerful as he turned heel, retreating to the kitchen.

He leaned heavily against the countertop, breathing, his cheeks flushed. He was unusually fazed by this kid. For some reason he really wanted to impress Bart, wanted to show him that he could be a real hero. "Mr. Queen? Mr. Queen... are, are you alright?" the teenager ran into the room, confused by his host's expression, the way he was sweating.

The older man stood up straight in an instant. " Uh, what. Nothing. Anyways... lunch? Yeah, how about lunch?" He busied himself plating some of his poorly made food, having given the cook the day off rather than explaining why he'd be cooking for two. Bart cringed a little at the site of a blackened hotdog, accompanied by a cream coloured paste.

Bart poked the mash with his fork, examining it as the substance jiggled. "What exactly is-"

" Mac and cheese, man." Oliver took a bite of his own. Okay, it wasn't perfect... but he was pretty sure it was still edible. He took a swig of beer along with it "Yum!"

"Uh, right. Thanks." Bart didn't particularly care about the quality of the food he was about to consume. He hadn't eaten at all in the past three days- he would have eaten his own arm if he had to. Often forced to steal in order to get his next meal, the guilt frequently persuaded Bart to live without.

Oliver was pretty stunned after his guest managed to finish off all of the food he'd made. That was 5 hotdogs and a whole pot of macaroni and cheese. "Hungry much, Bart?" he commented as the boy scraped the last remnants of food from the pot on the stove, eyeing in mournfully when it was clean.

"It's been a while since I had a meal... Anyways, I should probably get going. So, if I can have my pants, I'll be good to go."

"And where exactly do you think you're going to go? Rumour has it you're not sure yourself." Oliver chastised the teenager. He knew he couldn't make Bart stay with him, but he'd been hoping he'd be able to convince him.

"It doesn't matter. You're not my legal guardian, you can't force me to stay here!" Bart stormed out, looking for his things.

"I'm not going to force you. I just want you to stay here. Where I know you're safe." The young billionaire found himself caring deeply about what would happen to the boy he'd known for mere hours.

Bart stopped, looking the man up and down."Why do you care so much, ?" He sounded a little angrier than he felt.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, CAN YOU PLEASE STOP CALLING ME THAT?!" Oliver spat, tired of hearing himself referred to in such a formal manner.

Bart backed away quickly, a familiar chill of fear running through his veins. In the end, everyone who took him in turned on him. Even his own family had betrayed his innocence.

Seeing the fear in Bart's eyes, Oliver realized he'd struck a nerve within the boy. "Bart.. I'm sorry. It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you..." he raised his hands above him as a sign of peace. "Just... call me Oliver, okay?"

Bart took a deep breath, then smirked casually. "Alright, _Oliver_, why do you care?" he emphasized each word bitterly.

"Because... because... because I saw you on the street last night. I saw what he was doing to you... and I just, I just snapped. I couldn't fucking believe what he was doing to you, and you couldn't get away... I just. I just had to save you." His voice cracked, a lump in his throat as he felt like he was about to cry.

"YOU!? _You _saw me on the street?" Bart's eyes got wide, his mouth agape. "You're the Green Arrow?!"

"Shit. That wasn't exactly the magical reveal I wanted." Oliver mumbled... embarrassed to have given up his secret so easily.

A moment of stunned silence was passed between the two.

Oliver finally spoke, "So now you know why I can't in good conscience let you go back out there. Please, Bart... please stay." He begged the boy.

Bart sighed contemplatively. He hated the pitying look in the older man's eyes. He was disgusted, knowing that this guy had bared witness to the previous night's events. He gave one more glance to the man standing before him... the way he looked so scared for him. Someone hadn't given that kind of impression in a long time, an impression that he was worth something.

" One night. I'll stay for one night."

Oliver gave him a huge smile, feeling sort of like a big brother for the first time. He'd always wanted a younger sibling. Someone to keep him company when his parents were away on business trips. Someone to hold his hand during their funeral. Someone to tell his secrets, and who could tell him theirs. "Bart?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want your pants back now?"

**(A/N: I know this chapter wasn't exact eventful. No need to fret though, dear reader- stay tuned for more excitement!)**


	3. Brotherhood

**Chapter Three: Brotherhood**

Oliver had taken the day off work, hoping to spend some quality time with Bart. Unfortunately, both were a little too awkward to start any form of meaningful conversation. They sat on opposite ends of a large couch, watching a movie. Both were preoccupied with their own thoughts, so much so that Oliver found himself realizing he didn't know the name of the main character as he kissed his girlfriend at the end of the film. The credits began to roll, Bart shifted in his seat.

"I'm uh... I'm gonna go take a shower." he mumbled, rising from his seat. Anything to avoid more of this painful silence. He felt like such an intruder in this unfamiliar home. He wasn't even sure where he could find a washroom, Bart realized as he wandered down a hallway.

"There's one in your room, bro!" Oliver called, as if answering his thoughts. Bart blushed and tried to find the room with the big cozy bed.

Bart locked the door to his guest room, he didn't want Oliver Queen seeing any more of him than he already had. He undressed slowly, wincing momentarily as he stretched a little while removing his shirt. Glancing down at his bruised chest, the teenager sighed in disgust. He was typically a little banged up- but yesterday's attack had really ended up doing a number on him. He pressed down slowly on his right side, gasping at the stab of pain. "Shit.." he cursed, realizing he had broken a rib.

He opened several of the cabinets, looking for some over the counter pain medication. Unfortunately, it appeared his host didn't make a habit of storing personal belongings in every room in the house. The cupboards were all empty. As he closed the mirrored door, he jumped a little. He hadn't seen his own reflection in a while, it seemed- the face he saw in the mirror was unrecognizable.

He realized he was hurt last night, but he hadn't really known the scope of his injuries until now. He slowly raised his hand to touch the bruising around his eye, black and blue. There was a cut above his eye, which it seemed at some point had been stitched closed. He wondered if the Green Arrow had done it himself... though he knew it was probably a doctor. What kind of doctor worked on a kid while he was unconscious and with a stranger- he couldn't figure out. Oliver Queen must have more resources than he thought...

Bart was normally accustomed to washing himself with paper towels and hand soap in public washrooms at a grocery store. It had been weeks since he even had the opportunity to use a real shower, he wasn't one to complain about it. In spite of his usual self, Bart angrily punched the tile of the ornate shower. He felt angry and dirty. He knew it was cliche and stupid... but he felt like he couldn't get clean.

The teenager scrubbed furiously at his body, the scorching water didn't seem to be hot enough. After about a half hour, still feeling like his attacker was... inside of him... he shuddered at the thought, Bart frustratedly threw a bottle of shampoo at the wall. Turning off the water, the boy leaned against the wall as the last few drops of water sputtered from the shower-head. His breathing was hard and fast, he blinked back tears, aggressively letting out the emotions he's been keeping inside in front of the billionaire.

In the living room, Oliver Queen heard a loud thump coming from the direction of the guest room. He ran over, wondering if Bart had slipped in the water and fallen unconscious. Okay, he guessed it probably wasn't that bad.. but he couldn't help worrying about Bart. He'd never so much as had a hamster as a kid, never had anything that relied on him. He didn't want to screw up his first shot.

Oliver jiggled the handle, remarking that it had been locked. Bart probably wasn't standing naked right behind the door, so he didn't feel terribly about easily picking the lock. He didn't have super powers, but there was some interesting skills a kid learned when he was alone, trying to spy on a meeting.

Once inside, he paused and waited outside the white bathroom door. He stopped because he heard another noise coming from the other side. The water had been turned off, but he could swear he heard Bart crying. Oliver bit his lip and waited patiently, once he was sure he was hearing the teenager sobbing, he spoke up. "Bart, you alright in there?" he called, knocking on the bathroom door.

Only feet away from the concerned man, Bart jumped. He hadn't heard Oliver Queen entering the room, the door of which he had been sure he'd locked. At lightning speed, he was dressed, his hair damp but drying, and at the door.

By the time Oliver was about to knock a second time, only a second later- Bart opened the door. "Just finished up!" he smiled brightly as he strolled past. Bewildered, Oliver shook his head, he must have been mistaken.

"I just... I thought I heard you, in there... and there was a crash." he muttered as Bart gave him a raised eyebrow, looking at the paper-clip jammed into the lock.

"Must have been mistaken, friend." the teenager replied in a flat tone of voice. Now it was Oliver's turn to give a questioning and suspicious look, though he thought best not to ask questions. He shrugged and left Bart to himself, realizing how much he disliked adults and their questions when he was Bart's age.

Well, now that he thought of it, he didn't exactly know how old Bart was. He could theorize that the boy was in his mid-teens, but he couldn't be sure. "Hey, Bart... out of the blue... how old are you?"

Bart gave him a puzzled look, but nonetheless allowed him an answer. "I turned sixteen two weeks ago."

Oliver gave a lighthearted smile " Happy Birthday."

"Yeah... right.." Bart mumbled, playing with the drawstrings of his sweatshirt, trying to avoid eye contact with the billionaire.

The blond man sighed, exasperated by the awkward tension of their conversation. He left the room, and was already several steps down the hall when he heard a voice call "Mr. Queen, I mean uh... Oliver!" he turned around to see Bart standing right behind him.

"What is it, Bart?"

"How.. how'd you decide to become a hero, or well, a superhero? I mean, why? As far as I can tell you're just an ordinary guy... Wait no! That came out wrong, I mean, you're obviously not ordinary... but you don't have crazy powers or anything like that Red-Blue-Blur guy I was reading about. What made you decide to become the Green Arrow?" Bart gave him this kind of frantic, but revering gaze.

Oliver placed a hand on the boy's shoulder."Because Bart, when I needed saving... it felt like no one was there. I want the people of Metropolis to have the hero that I never did, and to know that at least someone out there's on their side."

Bart's blue eyes widened, realizing he really was in the presence of the superhero he had always dreamed would come in and swoop him away from the bad guys. The hero wasn't what he expected, he wasn't some guy who'd had a chemical accident. His face wasn't horrifically disfigured and his parents weren't murdered by some sort of arch-nemesis. Oliver Queen didn't really seem like he was trying to avenge anyone but his childhood self, an innocence he wished to preserve in others.

For Bart, innocence was a little bit too late. But a hero was what he needed, to save his life from falling deeper downhill- someone who could guide him to be himself, someone he could be proud of.

One day, he hoped he would glance in the mirror and see his battered body covered in bruises he obtained fighting for something bigger than himself. In one day; this man had gone from being a distant stranger in a world Bart would never know, to the man who asked him if he was alright when he saw him looking sullen, as the rest of the world didn't see him at all. Maybe there was hope for the concept of heroism after all.

"Oliver..." he started a little shyly.

"What is it now?" the blonde rolled his eyes, feigning disinterest. Truth be told, it was nice to have someone know that he was the Green Arrow and not immediately judge the way he was running things. Someone who thought he was doing some real good in the world.

"You're uh... you're sort of my hero." his cheeks were a little flushed, as if he were admitting to some shameful secret.

A smile played on Oliver's lips for a moment until he couldn't contain it- bursting with a wide grin. " You are... thank you..." was all he could say as he squeezed Bart in a tight hug.

Bart let out a gasp, in shock Oliver quickly released his grip- the smaller boy fell to his knees, clutching his broken side in agony. " You're uh... you're welcome" he replied though clenched teeth.

**(A/N: Okay so...I'm the worst. I just couldn't resist a chapter like this... there had to be a point when they got closer right? Anyways-future chapters will have a few more plot points and a little less internal monologue type stuff. Stay tuned... things are about to get interesting.)**


	4. Reunion

**(A/N. Sorry this took so long guys. I was in the middle of nowhere. I presumed nowhere had an internet connection. I was wrong.)**

**Chapter Four: Reunion**

"Bart? Bart!" Oliver bent down, confused as to what had happened. He'd merely hugged the boy, who was now writhing in pain on his hallway floor.

"Not... Not your fault. B-Broken rib..." Bart assured him through his barred teeth.

"What do I do?!" Oliver yelled at no one in particular, panicked. He wasn't really sure how to handle a situation like this. he was an idiot- he'd had a doctor check Bart out last night, but he'd only stitched him up. They didn't even do any x-rays... He felt so stupid.

Bart, meanwhile, was already propping himself up against a wall and seemed to have calmed down quite a bit. "Can you just get me some tylenol or something?" he requested calmly.

Oliver feigned calmness himself. "Oh, oh, okay Bart. Sure I'll get you some tylenol because this clearly happens to you a lot or something. Oh wait no. WE'RE GOING TO THE HOSPITAL!" he ordered, getting out his cellphone.

"It's fine..." Bart whined, pulling himself up to a standing position. "This has happened before. You just take a shit load of tylenol and try not to move too much."

The older man gave a skeptical look as he shoved the cellphone back into his pocket. By the time he'd returned with a bottle of painkillers, Bart had made his way over to the couch.

The boy gratefully swallowed twice the daily dosage recommendation of pills before moving on with his day. Bart realized he was hungry once again, but didn't bother with telling his host this. Oliver was probably already confused as to how he'd consumed a whole pan of macaroni and cheese only a few hours earlier.

The doorbell rang, signifying someone was in the elevator. Probably something business related, Bart thought, and took the opportunity to go scope out the kitchen for a snack.

Whilst stuffing various types of meat and a jar of mayonnaise between two slices of bread, the boy swore he heard his name being mentioned several times. Curiously, he took his sandwich and crept stealthily around the corner. Someone was already doing the same thing though, trying to get a peek into the kitchen from the other side. It was because of this that Bart found his nose squished against someone's muscular chest and the ingredients of his sandwich spread across the tiled floor, having dropped it in surprise.

"Bart!" the guy he crashed into smiled gave him a light hug.

"OW! OW! OW!" Bart jumped in pain and backed out of the embrace. "Why do people keep doing that..." he mumbled, rubbing the sore spot on his side.

"Are you alright, Bart?" the guy quickly asked in an apologetic tone. The teenager realized he recognized the voice, and was of course already confused as to why this guy knew his name. There wasn't exactly a boat load of the people he spent most of his time with, people just as down on their luck as he was, that could drop in unannounced at Oliver Queen's apartment.

"Clark Kent?!" he jumped in shock at the sight of the familiar face. It had been a goodyear since his first and last stay with the Kent family. He wasn't normally one to remember the people he saw only once, but there was something about meeting the only other person, or at least to his knowledge, that had the same ability as he does. Someone who was somehow even more of a freak than Bart himself. "See I told you he was the right kid!" Clark bumped Oliver on the shoulder playfully. Oliver looked surprised and just as confused as Bart over this turn of events. In fact Clark was the only one in the room who seemed to think this was totally normal.

Oliver shook his head. "Okay, you two, now that we've established that you're best buddies, mind explaining how exactly you know each other?"

Clark leaned casually against the wall " Well remember, I told you last night. You had this kid on a roof, knocked out for whatever reason, and I told you Oliver, that's Bart Allen. And you told me to come over when he was conscious to see if he knew who I was."

" Yeah, I know what happened last night, thank you very much. I'm just saying you never knew actually explained how yourself and Bart Allen became acquainted." Oliver pressed. How did Clark Kent, who rarely ventured into Metropolis in the first place, know this kid who lived in the slums of the city?

Bart was beginning to get annoyed, he was being discussed, but neither man took the time to look him in the eyes. "Uh hey, yeah- over here. Before we delve in MY life story... mind explaining how _you two_ know each other? I mean, no offense farm-boy, but how do you have connections with Luthor AND this guy? Geez, how connected could you be?"

"Umm... I... his mom is my business partner..." Oliver mumbled quickly. Truthfully, he met Clark after stealing a diamond necklace from his mother as the Green Arrow. Through an agreement to keep one-other's secret identities, the two had eventually developed a sort of friendship.

Bart looked bored and disbelieving with the response, but decided to ignore the lie. He could probably get something more interesting out of Oliver once he'd known the guy for more than a couple of hours. It occurred to him that they were still essentially strangers, brought together only by the guilt of a rich man knowing he was some kind of helpless child. Whatever, it wasn't like this would be a permanent setup, and the two would soon part ways.

Seeing the supposed boredom in his ward's eyes, Oliver took such as a signal that it was his turn to go along with the questioning. "Alright Bart, if you care so much. How about _you _tell me why farm-boy is _your _best buddy. Seems to me it's just as unlikely Clark knows some homeless kid in metropolis as he does a rich guy. Then again... Smallville is the capital of unlikely." He said that last part a little more quietly. Clark gave off a quite grunt of laughter at the comment. Unbeknownst to Queen himself, Bart was also in on the meteor-freak knowledge.

" Same way you know me, Robin Hood." he gave a sly smile. Suddenly his eyes got wide though, realizing he probably shouldn't have mentioned so obviously his knowledge of Oliver Queen's secret alter-ego.

The room was suddenly very awkwardly silent. "Does he...?" Clark whispered to his friend in a hushed tone. Oliver was normally very careful about keeping his secret identity just that, a secret. To his knowledge, Clark was the only one who knew.

Seeing Oliver's nod in response, Bart realized the significance of the exchange that had just happened between the men. "Wait- Clark, _you _know?!" he shouted in surprise. Geez, for a stealthy thief, Green Arrow was incredibly crapy at keeping secrets. "Well then... someone likes to kiss and tell.." he mocked, bending down to pick up the pieces of salami from the floor. "Well now that we're sharing... I guess I should tell you Bart knows about me too..." Clark mumbled, a little embarrassed. Seeing Oliver's shock, Bart flashed him an annoyingly arrogant smile, popping a piece of floor-meat into his mouth. Yum, bologna.

" Seriously Clark? As far as I could tell, you guys met for like, a day!" Oliver ranted. He was pretty sure Clark still hadn't told that Lana girl he was always talking about. "And stop doing that, Bart- there's more in the fridge!" he yelled, aggravated after seeing Bart eat the bologna from his floor.

" Same with you, Ollie! Listen, either way- I guess we all know about each other now. We're like a club or something." Typical Clark, thought Oliver, always looking on the bright side.

" Wait. All of us? Bart, tell me, are you also an alien?" Oliver looked at him, dead serious. Bart knew that he could tell his host everything, but being coming from his background, he didn't much like to tell people everything at once.

"No, of course not. Clark just meant we're all keeping both of your secrets." Bart lied swiftly, eager to leave the situation before Clark spilled the beans. What was up with these two? It seemed like both had unsuspectingly trusted him with their deepest secret. "I'm uh, I'm gonna go finish up with that sandwich..." he mumbled, returning to the kitchen.

Leaving Oliver and Clark to ponder what to do with the kid who knew the secrets that could get the both of them killed.


End file.
